


Gasoline

by ghostedMinds



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aobajousai, Character Study, F/F, Fukuroudani, Gen, Halsey - Freeform, Karasuno, M/M, Nekoma, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Valentine's Day, gasoline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostedMinds/pseuds/ghostedMinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>songfic based of the song Gasoline by Halsey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> it’s done!!! happy v-day everyone!! This was a fun pressure-filled experiment, let me know what you think?
> 
> based off the song Gasoline by Halsey and inspired by this [post](http://kenmasan.tumblr.com/post/138043413171) and [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGPSj-icqjE).

_**Are you insane like me?** _

Insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Kuroo Tetsurou was not insane.

But maybe he was, just a little, when so many of his choice seemed to revolve around a friend.

He’d pestered the kid when they were younger, not taking no for an answer. Someone so different from him, yet they fit and worked. He had dragged the boy onto the volleyball team, convinced him to stay on in high school. Tetsurou had built a team around a childhood friend that wasn’t enthusiastic about the sport that the rest of the team loved.

Insanity. Extreme foolishness or irrationality. Kuroo Tetsurou waited for the chance to fight his school’s longtime rival. Both teams once powerhouses, reduced to ash and risen again.

Well, maybe Kuroo Tetsurou was a little insane then.

 

_**Been in pain like me?** _

Every time Azumane Asahi steps onto the court, there is a drop of fear that runs through his veins. The memory of an iron wall made of hands blocking him still fresh. With that image come a second of pain.

Failing his team, failing as the ace, disappoint his friends and underclassmen. A storage room, hands fisted in his shirt, a small body with so much force, eyes filled with hurt, and the snapping of a broom.

Every time Asahi steps onto the court he remembers when he felt like he wasn’t worthy of the ace title, but now, he fights to hold onto that very title. He remembers the pain he’s been through and lets it drive him.

 

_**Bought a hundred-dollar bottle of champagne like me?** _

Spending each day running Sakanoshita has been a simple task that’s fulfilling enough. But everyone one deserves a fine bottle of wine sometimes.

True, the Karasuno kids are a lot of trouble and watching them play makes Keishin want to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes, but its fulfilling too. Watching them grow and connect.

Ukai Keishin knows in his gut that they’ll go far and win something Karasuno hasn’t won in years, and when that happens, it’ll feel like drinking a hundred-dollar bottle of champagne.

 

_**Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?** _

How could Ennoshita Chikara think about taking over for Daichi? He was a substitute; he didn’t blend with the others. He missed to many receives that Daichi would have gotten, too many spikes imperfect. Still, Chikara moved forward and they beat Wakutani, despite Daichi being out.

But, after the game, Chikara wasn’t happy with their win. Frustration coursed through him.

How could he think about being captain next year? He’d run away from volleyball when it had gotten tough. Sure that’s why he had to get better, but he had no right to claim such a high title – no matter how much Yuu and Ryuunosuke said otherwise.

 

_**Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?** _

It might be ridiculous, but Takeda Ittetsu believes in the birds of old. The crows might be flightless now, but he knows they can fly again one day.

That’s why he’ll invest everything he has and everything he is, into the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team. Ittetsu will beg and pester whoever he has to, force the team to study to make sure they have passing grades, and even use his own savings to make sure the team has whatever it needs.

The brief time of unsuccess may be regarded as a stain on Karasuno’s name, but Ittetsu is ready to dry that stain – by any means available to him.

 

_**Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?** _

Johzenji High. Once known for their Simplicity and Fortitude, now the party team. Only the strong can play freely on the court.

Adapt, have fun, win – and when things start to get hard, get even more hyped.

But listen to that little bird. Think, use you head, and you can have even more fun than before.

 

_**Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?** _

Having a genius underclassmen was tough. Sugawara Koushi knows this.

Koushi was no longer the team’s regular setter.

But it was fine, better even. The team was better now, and they could only go up from here. So Suga smiles, when inside it feels like he’s being torn apart, like he’s inadequate.

But he won’t just give up and rollover. He may not stand on the court all the time, but he has his moments. He fights to stand on that court with his teammates and works and trains so that when he is with the crows, he’s ready to entertain the spectators – after all, their genius is still young and has much to learn.

 

_**Do the people whisper ‘bout you on the train like me?** _

Over-self-confidence is pointless.

But is it over-confidence when you’ve proven your skill? When people talk about you? When magazines want an interview? Is it over-confidence when teams feel defeat before they’ve gotten close to face you? Or when only the willfully determined vow to beat you and take your title?

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn’t brag unnecessarily, but his title – Japan and Super Ace – and his position on the Youth World Championship does all of the talking for him.

 

_**Saying that you shouldn’t waste a pretty face like me?** _

Kageyama Tobio can’t forget that time when no one was there to hit his toss. The feeling he had when he heard the ball hit floor, looked back and saw only empty space. No spiker.

“A genius” they said.

“King of the Court” they added.

“A waste” left unsaid.

He could reach great heights, go on to do amazing things – if only he could cooperate with the team. Getting taken off the court left him with a feeling so raw and new that he didn’t know what to do with it.

What good was a genius when he wasn’t allowed on the court? No good. He was only wasted talent.

 

_**And all the people say,** _

It’s a strange thing how teams dissect their opponents. Focusing on those who seem like a threat.

The ace, the tall middle blocker, the boisterous wing spiker, the champion libero, the greatest decoy, and the genius setter – but they forget about the foundation. Not flashy in his spikes or receives, average, but still completing both jobs well. Keeping the team together.

Sawamura Daichi doesn’t mind when others pass over him and focus on his teammates instead. After all, no one compliments a house’s foundation but the team knows his importance – and anyway, Daichi just has to give them something new to say.

 

_**“You can’t wake up, this is not a dream”** _

There have been a handful of instances when Iwaizumi Hajime has felt like he’d been in a dream. No, not a dream, a nightmare.

Hajime still isn’t sure if meeting Tooru falls under nightmare, dream, or unavoidable.

Encountering Tobio though, that had been a nightmare. Tooru coming so close to hitting the kid, it’d scared him, like the world had gone into fast-forward.

Losing to Wakatoshi. A nightmare of nightmares. It seemed as if the events had gone by in slow motion. Watching Tooru break had hurt, hurt too much.

Without a doubt, dreaming was the best. You could wake up from those.

 

_**“You’re part of a machine”** _

Kyoutani Kentarou does not play well with others. Everybody knows this. When he goes, there is not much that can stop him. After all he just another part of the team, and ultimately, replaceable.

But then again, when your goal is to reach optimal performance, having the best pieces on your side is ideal.

 

_**“You are not a human being”** _

Yachi Hitoka often forgets that she’s human. Not in a “she can’t get hurt” way or a “she’s better than you” way.

When others are passionate about something, she feels less. When her mother gives her harsh words that are meant as encouragement but come out a little sharp, she feels less. When she feels undecided about things, she feels less.

Hitoka forgets that humans are imperfect, unsure at times and stumbling through life. She feels like she isn’t human, like she’s less, but when she sees the human crows fly – she gets knocked breathless.

Maybe, just maybe, she can be more than _just_ human.

 

_**“With your face all made up, living on a screen”** _

Oikawa Tooru is not a genius.

He will not have the same raw talent that Kageyama possesses. Obsessively, he will study and pour over the other teams. Constructing plays, moving effectively, tossing perfectly – all to get the ball to the spikers. Flirt as he may, it is not a girl Tooru goes home with, but videos of opponents. Staying up late and watching, dissecting. He’ll joke and tease, a smile on his face, but his mind is already racing, seeing what you cannot.

Oikawa Tooru will hit it until it breaks, and all the while, he’ll keep smiling for the crowd.

 

_**“Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.”** _

Kozume Kenma has always been concerned with the opinions of others. He’s not really sure why, but it’s made him observant.

Through time Kenma has noticed that some people are a little more than ordinary, extraordinary in a way. Like Tetsurou. Kenma understands he’s not extraordinary, he not even ordinary. He’s too self-conscious, too quiet, too much of somethings and not enough of others.

Kozume Kenma feels tired of having to deal with these people, the ordinary and extraordinary, but he gets through the day. He watches those around him, tries to hide from view so his under-ordinariness doesn’t get noticed, and at the end of the day – after making it through those long hours when he was a little sure he’d fall over – he falls into bed and relaxes.

Kenma doesn’t know how others do it, but sometimes he feels like he’s running on fumes, on gasoline that isn’t made for him.

 

_**Oh, oh, oh, oh** _

In infertile soil he sits, but watch him as he grows.

Taller and taller. Bigger and bigger.

Magnificent he is, blotting out the sky, standing strong with branches spread and roots dug deep.

Infertile soil he may have, but watch him as he grows.

 

_**I think there’s a flaw in my code.** _

Sometimes Shouyou thinks there’s something wrong with him. He’s too short, jumps too high, moves too fast, he doesn’t understand some of the things other people seem to know, and none of his friends in junior high could understand his obsession with volleyball. Don’t get him wrong, he’s thankful for all of it (except the shortness, being taller would be nice) but he feels wrong.

It gets worse after the defeat by Kitagawa Daiichi. He feels dejected yes, but he feels even more motivated than before and works so much harder.

Shouyou thinks he may be flawed and he might be the only one.

When Tobio holds him close, arms loose but firm, Shouyou can hear the wild thumping of Tobio’s heart – like it’s trying to break free from its ribbed cage – Shouyou feels like he’s not the only flawed one. He can feel Tobio’s fear and adoration at being able to see the court perfectly when he’s about to toss and, maybe, being _too_ good. He can hear how Tobio feels flawed too, because he can’t seem to get along with people.

Shouyou always hugs Tobio back then, and proclaims confidently, “We can have flawed codes together.”

 

_**Oh, oh, oh, oh** _

Patiently they waited and now their mind is oxygenated. This cat is grown and set to pounce.

The black bird flying there, sows the seeds of hope. “Another battle at the Trash Dump” is the chant that they hear. The chant that courses through their veins and grows and grows till it’s all their eyes can see.

Blood flowing, oxygen moving, mind working – they are ready.

 

_**These voices won’t leave me alone.** _

Despite the obvious differences between Akaashi and Koutarou, the two both have their heads full of voices.

Akaashi hears calculations, formulas, plans – voices filling his head with advice to improve and hints at things he should remember to be better, reminders that he’s not the best and will never be.

Koutarou’s behavior reflects the voices in his head, telling him to be himself, to act on his emotions, not give up. They sometimes whisper insecurities of not good enough, not being one of the top three.

Despite the obvious differences between Akaashi and Koutarou, the two can quiet the persistent voices in their head when they’re with each other, finding comfort in the littles of things – like receiving a toss, or making the correct assumption about how the other will react.

 

_**Well my heart is gold, and my hands are cold.** _

Everyone says that Asahi has a glass heart. Yuu thinks it may be a golden glass heart.

As libero, Yuu watches everyone from the back, how they move and grow and all of that stuff – how else will he be there to save the ball and keep them on the court?

So Yuu sees the small things about Asahi. How he battles Shouyou to be ace, the joy he feels when he scores a point, and all of the other small things that Asahi does on the court.

Yuu also watches Asahi off the court – when he can of course. How Asahi is assumed to be dangerous or a bad guy (whoa are those people wrong), and despite those assumptions, he helps others out and tries to be generous in the things he does.

One thing though, the one thing that always confuses Yuu when he watches he golden-glass heart ace, is why Asahi has a pained expression whenever he looks down at his hand. 

So randomly one day, when Asahi’s looking down at his hand again, Yuu walks over to it and gives it an awkward hi-five.

“Oowah! Your hand’s cold Asahi-san. Wear some gloves” he scolds, pulling out a fresh towel he has on hand (there are good reasons for it) and places it over Asahi’s hands.

Asahi looks up and gives Yuu a radiant smile. “Thanks Noya.” Yuu stares at Asahi in curiosity and confusion. It feels like he’s being thanked for something bigger.

 

_**Are you deranged like me?** _

So small but such a big roll.

Determined to watch every back, receive every ball, keep the game going. Nishinoya Yuu will pull impossible moves for one more toss and one more spike, taking on everyone’s weight. Yuu may be a little mad, but he will be the ground when the others need to fly.

He will be their guardian deity.

 

_**Are you strange like me?** _

Bokuto Koutarou is strange, there is no doubt about that. His hair style alone is proof.

Mood swings that change faster than the desert weather and ideas that appear completely random. Ace in title, but it is not unusual for him to stop receiving tosses during a game. In the end though, as long as he looks like a cool ace and captain, Koutarou is happy.

Yeah, he might be strange, but that doesn’t mean he’s incompetent or not a formidable opponent.

 

_**Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?** _

162.8 cm tall. Too short. No chance.

None of that mattered to Hinata Shouyou. Practice with the girls’ volleyball team or practice alone, training day by day he would. Crashing to keep the game going, receiving with his face – Shouyou would not give up. He would continue to call for one more. One more game. One more toss.

162.8 cm tall, but the brightest flame on the court. He would endure the pain and viciousness if only to have another chance to spike, to see the view from the top.

 

_**Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?** _

A hurricane, a natural disaster, unpredictable, sweeping through in a storm of destruction. This is Tanaka Ryuunosuke. Intimidating, a look that could kill, but a center of gentleness. A teammate, kind and protective of his friends. His personality calls attention to him and spikes that are hit full force.

Never forget, even through his softness, Ryuunosuke is a wild hurricane.

 

_**Pointing fingers cause you’ll never take the blame like me?** _

Volleyball is just a club. It’s pointless and won’t help you in life.

So why then, does everyone around Tsukishima Kei love the sport so much? Why do they expect him to put in effort? To _try_?

Volleyball has done nothing but ruin his relationship with his brother, his brother who lied about something so stupid.

Volleyball is what causes Tadashi so much torment simply because the boy doesn’t have raw talent like some of the others on the team.

Why would Kei want to play volleyball when it is the reason that so many close to him have felt grief?

For those close to him, Kei refuses to try and succeed in something that has beaten them down.

 

_**And all the people say,** _

They’re a bit of an eccentric bunch.

The positive first years, the troublesome half-Russian, the rambunctious second year, the quiet and well-behaved third year, the sassy captain who acts ten years younger than his age most of the time, and the socially-anxious setter. Of course, there’s also him, the one who keeps them in line.

One look and people dismiss them. After a few serves into a game and there’s a new thought, whispers of the cats who analyze you. Picking you apart.

Every time, as he’s receiving the ball, Yaku Morisuke can only think, “let them say what they want.”

 

_**“You can’t wake up, this is not a dream”** _

Shimizu Kiyoko has watched, feeling like she’s been in a dream.

Watched as her fellow third years started as first years and became second years, struggled to continue on and remain on the team as they advanced to third years. Watched as the second years joined as first years – starry eyed, only to be disappointed and come back after they’d left.

Kiyoko had seen the team break when they’d been beaten and fall apart, and she’d watched as a new batch of first years joined. Pulling the broken-down team together. Hope blossoming in her chest as the team grew again, heading closer and closer to the champions they had once been.

Shimizu Kiyoko had been slammed with the reality that she wasn’t in a dream but in real life, because there was no waking up from real life. Kiyoko, heart broken, had watched as the team she loved broke anew. Kageyama’s toss, Hinata’s spike, the ball bouncing off a wall of hands. The team had dived, but it wasn’t enough, the ball hit the court without connecting. Kiyoko watched the team fall with the loss.

Shimizu Kiyoko had also seen, with her own eyes, the pickup. The crows still had hope in them, so she set off to do her part. Carry on the torch of the team, of the manager, just as her fellow third years worked to pass their torch to the younger members, unwilling to stay flightless.

 

_**“You’re part of a machine”** _

Haiba Lev understands. It may not seem like it, but Lev understands that a team is like a machine. Working together to wind, and only the strong and exceptional break free and shine alone.

More than just another clog.

Lev still has a way to go though. He has a strong spike, but with terrible receiving and blocking, Lev is just another part of the system – goal, to keep the mind working and the blood flowing.

 

_**“You are not a human being”** _

On the court they forget. Forget that Aone Takanobu is just like them – human and a high school student.

191.8cm tall with no eyebrows, long limbed and fast reflexes. He becomes more and less than human. Takanobu becomes a monster; he becomes a wall.

On the court, Aone Takanobu becomes the Iron Wall that crushes aces – no longer human.

 

_**“With your face all made up, living on a screen”** _

Akaashi Keiji is put together. Handling a captain whose mood swings could give you whiplash. Tosses that connect to spikers. Tosses that carry the team through. He doesn’t beat the bush – giving opinions and facts like an owl on the hunt. Precise and straight for the kill.

Akaashi Keiji is watched. He has the tosses. He decides the next move, the next mood. He will keep the play going, face blank as he calculates, all so that the ace can score once more.

Keiji doesn’t need to be loud, not when he can keep a mask of composure.

 

_**“Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.”** _

Somethings in life are unexplainable or seem uncertain. Yamaguchi Tadashi is kind of like that. Surrounded by legends (they’ll get there), Tadashi finds himself low on self-esteem. With greatness around, he feels a little like a failure. Sometimes he wonders how he manages to get through a day at all.

Tadashi is loyal.

He will not give up because there may come a day when he’s needed – there have already been the two times he’s had to serve, who’s to say there won’t be another – so he’ll keep going.

Someone has to look out for Kei, the sassy and snarky and somehow still kind boy. He may not realize it, but he needs Tadashi.

Yamaguchi Tadashi is loyal, and he can see that even though he’s not legend material, he does have a role to fill – so even if he feels low and like giving up, he’ll keep moving forward.

 

_**Oh, oh, oh, oh** _

“The Fallen Champions” “The Flightless Crows”

It was true.

Success achieved and champions graduated, wings broke and crows failed to take to skies.

But new chicks have fallen into the nest. Inexperienced and volatile. Day by day they grow. Soon, we will not just fly, we will soar.

Kings of the skies once more.

 

_**I think there’s a flaw in my code.** _

There are many times when Tooru feels imperfect. Yes, he knows; it’s alright to not be perfect, no one’s perfect, blah de blah de blah. He can’t help it.

He wonders if he’s flawed when he meets Tobio and watches the boy grow. He wonders if he’s flawed when he wakes up and looks less than perfectly put together. He knows he’s flawed when he finally breaks down and cries, ugly cries, and sobs and is just a complete mess.

Hajime knows that Tooru isn’t perfect, not by the standard that humans have dubbed as perfect, but Tooru is perfect in his annoying, sassy, always trying too hard way. Hajime knows this, so he pulls Tooru into a hug when it gets to be too much and kiss his childhood friend on the forehead.

“You’re perfect Tooru. Not one flaw.”

 

_**Oh, oh, oh, oh** _

Mighty owl, high you fly. Though one may drop, the rest fly on.

Might owl, defend you will. Skies you’ve claimed and strength you’ve shown.

You will not yield and you will not surrender. Whether your opponent be nimble cat, fresh-winged crow or whitened eagle, you will fight with beak and talon.

 

_**These voices won’t leave me alone.** _

Night. The quietest time of the day, but also the loudest.

Kenma remembers his day, the interactions, whispers that may have been spoken or not, judgements made (or maybe not). At night, Kenma can’t help but overthink. Voices too loud, piling up. The weight enough to crush him and leave him broken in bed.

Tetsurou is always there though. Hugging Kenma to his chest and murmuring random things to him. How his day was, what he talked about with Koutarou, a few volleyball ideas, reassurances – whatever pops into his mind, and slowly, the voices quiet down. Not gone – never gone – but quieter now.

“Thank you Kuro” Kenma will whisper. Tetsurou will huff (as if he could not help) and will just pull Kenma closer, crushing the boy against his chest.

 

_**Well my heart is gold, and my hands are cold.** _

Kei knows he’s sassy and harsh and a bit too cruel. He knows that Tadashi deserves better and a good friend would let him find better – but he’s too selfish to give the freckled boy up (like Tadashi would even leave).

He tries to be better though. Struggles, but tries.

Tadashi works hard, is always there, never leaves and Kei ~~loves~~  likes that about him. So when Tadashi gets flustered the way he does when he wants to practice, Kei will put his headphones away and indulge the other, going out back to help Tadashi practice his serves.

And during games Kei will get frustrated. He’ll growl and glare down their opponents.

On the sidelines will be Tadashi, smile on his face as he shouts out encouragements to the team, his hand empty and clutching his jersey – the gesture that says he wants to play, that he wants to serve.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading.  
> pardon while i go die now. i nearly had a freak out when i thought i lost a part i was sure i wrote.
> 
> [Nonsexual Acts of Intimacy](http://rp-nyx.tumblr.com/post/139233707001/nonsexual-acts-of-intimacy-select-from-the) request open on my [tumblr](rp-nyx.tumblr.com)


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